In the Hands of Fate
by baasheep
Summary: The Gods like a good game of chess just as much as the next mortal. But what happens if the odds are staked high and the pieces at risk are the Harry Potter characters? What if, suddenly, there are no rules. Anything and everything goes. Chaos rules and m


A/N I'd like to thank all those people whose thoughts and quotes I nabbed in order to write this. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The supremely wonderful J.K Rowling does.  
  
Chaos, Tyrant and Great Destroyer of the Universe, Herald of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, Harbinger of the Seven Plagues of Egypt and Mortal Enemy of Order, was sitting in the corner sulking. Order looked up from across the room where he was playing a friendly game of chess with Pestilence. "Oh for Pete's sake, Chaos. Stop pouting."  
  
Pestilence looked up from the board and frowned. "You know, Profanity never did like that one," he mused.  
  
Order continued to stare at the game board. "Hmmm?"  
  
"Profanity. He never liked the name Pete. I mean, one gets used to the good one's like "God", "Jesus Christ" and up a "rat's arse". Pete never seemed to quite cut it. It's in the same sort of league as "sugar" and "oh cucumber sandwiches." [1]  
  
Order nodded distractedly, not quite listening. He regarded the board a bit more simply to create the illusion of deep thought before finally moving his knight to take one of the black pawns. The flea-ridden pinto stood stubbornly motionless until its rider gave it a good kick with the spurs whereupon it proceeded to plod two squares forwards, one across and barged an unhappy pawn off its current square. The pawn threw Order a deadly glare and stormed off the board muttering obscenities. Order sighed and glanced across the room to where Chaos was still moping. "Besides," he added under his breath whilst scrutinising Pestilence's move, "it's not *my* fault you can't win a simple game of Cheat."  
  
Unfortunately, Chaos heard. "You cheated!" he accused.  
  
Pestilence rolled his eyes. "That's the idea. You're *supposed* to cheat outrageously." As an afterthought, he added: "Although I'll admit that five aces *was* taking it a little too far."  
  
Chaos sent him a glare reminiscent of Death. "You're supposed to be on my side!"  
  
Pestilence raised a perfectly sculptured eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"  
  
Chaos waved a vague hand. "Oh, you know. The Apocalypse thingy. I'm supposed to lead you all into it. I precede you, so technically I'm your master."  
  
Order looked up and smirked. "In that case, Pestilence should be on *my* side. Order precedes Chaos."  
  
Chaos receded into sudden silence until a random though hit him on the head, quite literally. The little orb labelled "Random Thought" had to hit him several times before it was allowed access to Chaos' brain. "Do mortals actually believe that we're going to bother spreading diseases and strife etc when it comes to the end of the world? Not likely. I'll be off down the pub celebrating."  
  
Order shrugged. He only just managed to refrain from pointing out that there wouldn't be any pub left to celebrate in. Frankly, he didn't bother with mortals because they simply didn't make sense.which was probably exactly why Chaos was so fascinated with them. They did the most odd things. Take those thingummys.wotsit.cameras! All they did was point the black box at something, preferably of beaches or caged animals, click it and move on as the box whirred wildly. And they came up with the most stupid sayings and words. Take the most ironic word in the English language for example. Lisp. If you one of the damn things, you couldn't even say so! Utterly barmy. As far as he could remember, the last time he'd ventured down onto the Earth itself had been a time when men wore mini skirts and threw javelins as each other. Needless to say, he wouldn't be returning for a while.  
  
Order turned back to the board and narrowed his eyes suspiciously as Pestilence's Queen proceeded to leap over several pieces and flatten his King. "You cheated!" he exclaimed.  
  
Chaos shrugged. "There aren't any rules," he stated.  
  
Order jumped up indignantly. "Yes there are. Only knights can jump over other pieces."[2]  
  
"They can if said pieces happen to be two inches high."  
  
"Well, yes *theoretically* they could but they don't because of the rules. Rules prevent Chaos from reigning.ahh."  
  
Chaos smirked. "That's why *you* invented them. Couldn't live without rules."  
  
"I could!"  
  
"All right then. A game of chess, you and me. One on one. No rules."  
  
As expected, Order rose to the bait. "You're on." He waved his hand and the pieces started to return, some of them grumbling, to their starting positions. Chaos rose from the couch he had been perched on and glided across the room to seat himself opposite Order.  
  
Unnoticed, Pestilence snuck out of the room to tell Hermes what was going on. Avarice would want to get bets in before the first round. This was going to be one hell of a chess game.  
  
Chaos grinned ferally. "Let's make this a little more interesting shall we?" Before Order could draw out a petition, send it off to the local council, lose it three times, find it, have it approved and send it around, Chaos had waved his hand and the pieces had changed.  
  
Order looked at his new pieces. He rose an eyebrow. "An old man as Queen?"  
  
Chaos shrugged. "He's wearing a dress and a pretty hat."  
  
Visions of those men in skirts came back to him and he shuddered involuntarily, deciding he didn't want to know. He continued surveying his pieces. "And a young boy as King?"  
  
Again, Chaos shrugged. "Edward VI was nine when he ascended to the throne of England."[3]  
  
Order rolled his eyes and turned to Morality who was one of the many goddesses currently betting on the outcome. "Is skrewing with mortals lives moral?" he asked. Morality shrugged and pointed vaguely in the direction of Fate.  
  
As always, the Great Incredible Lump materialised as Fate walked into the room. Despite the fact that he hated the idea of fate ("It's far too imprecise," he would sniff regally), he was strangely attracted to her. As was the entire male population of Mount Olympus. Suddenly, he caught a glimpse of a crystal ball in her hands and knew, just *knew*, she was going to tell him the future. "I don't want to know," he muttered.  
  
Chaos just grinned. Order looked at his pieces. The King was particularly eye-drawing. He was a tall man with a snake-like face and gleaming red eyes. Coolly, Chaos' King turned to regard him and fixed him with a nonchalant gaze. Order turned morosely to watch his King who was busy picking his nose. He sighed again. He didn't have a hope in hell.  
  
Unfortunately, Probability and Death seemed to agree with him.  
  
* * *  
  
Harry sighed and peered out of the window at the blackening sky. No Hedwig in sight. He sank down slowly onto his bed and put his head in his hands. He had sent Hedwig off to Sirius with a letter two weeks ago and she still hadn't returned.  
  
He groaned as he remembered the circumstances in which he had been forced to write that letter. Although life with the Dursleys was never pleasant, it had reached an all time low this summer, and that was saying something. The moment he had arrived at Privet Drive, Uncle Vernon had taken him by the ear and literally thrown him up the stairs and locked him in his room. All of his belongings had been thrown into the cupboard under the stairs, including Hedwig. Harry had had to steal downstairs in the dead of the night in order to retrieve her.  
  
By the time he had been able to release her from the cage, he was both hungry and stiff. He hadn't been fed all day and it didn't look like the Dursleys were going to start any time soon. Harry hated complaining, especially to his godfather, but he had no choice. Without the threat of a convicted criminal, the Dursleys would never let him out. But the plan didn't seem to have worked: Sirius never replied.  
  
Harry sighed again and flopped back heavily onto his bed. Besides, it wasn't as if Hedwig would be able to get back to him now. The Dursleys had put the bars back on his window yesterday. He groaned and curled up on the bed desperately hoping that whatever dreams lay in wait for him tonight would be pleasant.  
  
* * *  
  
He was awoken rudely when something large and heavy collided with his window before squeaking and sliding down it. Harry sat up quickly and fumbled for his glasses whilst rolling off his bed. He landed with a loud thump that he was sure would wake the Dursleys, cursed briefly and rolled under the bed to put it between him and the intruder. All this took only a second, maybe less and he paused to listen. He frowned. Nothing. Absolute silence.  
  
Harry sat quietly, listening out for the smallest sound. He didn't want to risk taking a run for the door. After a couple of minutes, he heard another softer bump as if someone was cautiously trying the window again. There was a muffled string of colourful cursing. Harry froze. He was certain he had heard that voice before but definitely not on a Death Eater. He edged a little closer to the window.  
  
"Snuffles?" he called out tentatively.  
  
There was a brief moment of silence and then a sigh of relief. "Harry, thank God. Open this damn window. I've already squashed my nose on the glass."  
  
Harry moved nearer and peered out into the dark. "I can't Sirius," he breathed. "The Dursleys have put bars on the window so I can't escape."  
  
There was another moment of cursing which ended in a beaten sigh. "Fine. Where's your wand? Can you get it?"  
  
"Yes. Hang on, it's in the cupboard under the stairs."  
  
Harry padded across the room and began to pick the door lock with a twisted paper clip. Sirius spoke up from outside the window.  
  
"Harry? Harry! What do you think you're doing? You're not to go downstairs. It's why I'm here.Harry!"  
  
But Harry had already slipped out of the door and quietly down the stairs. Sirius muttered an oath and dropped to the ground outside Harry's window and ran around to the front door.  
  
Harry, meanwhile, was wrestling with the door to the cupboard. Finally, with an almighty creak that could wake the dead, the door swung open on rusty hinges. Harry fumbled around for the light switch before remembering that it had been broken many years ago, casting most of his childhood into perpetual darkness. He sighed and felt around blindly for his trunk.  
  
Locating it, he dragged it a little nearer to the door and kicked it open. In the dim light cast by the lamp on the landing that Dudley insisted should be lit at night, Harry saw the jumble of clothes and books which had been hastily stuffed into his trunk at the end of last term. How long ago had that been? Only about two weeks. It seemed much longer.  
  
With another sigh, he bent over and began to rifle through his belongings searching for his wand.  
  
He never saw the shadow on the wall creeping towards him, cast by a skulking rat. Nor did he see the rat change shape and grow into a man. He didn't even see the wand pressed into his neck before it was far too late.  
  
---------------------------------------- [1]I'll explain this joke to you in case you didn't get it. I know my friends didn't. Profanity is basically the posh word for swearing. Pestilence is saying that Profanity (the God) doesn't like being labelled Pete (you know.if you're pissed you say "oh for Pete's sake). It doesn't seem quite as cool as "Jesus Christ" or "up a rat's arse".  
  
[2] I don't much about chess, but I *do* know this is true.  
  
[3]This is true! I researched it because I couldn't remember the number. There's so many kings and whatnot I can never remember which is which.Edward VI, son of Henry VIII and Jane Seymour ascended to the throne of England at the age of nine, but he didn't reign for long. He died of consumption (absolutely no clue what the hell that is.)at the age of sixteen having never married.  
  
So what do you think? Please leave a review. Luv baasheep xx 


End file.
